Monday, 27 June 2016

MIDNIGHT DIVINE by Valerie Roeseler

Title: Midnight Divine
Author: Valerie Roeseler
Genre: NA Paranormal Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: Leaving her broken home and shady past behind, Ivy Harris is determined to make something of herself. Her new acquaintance, Jack Roe, is irritating and arrogant with a womanizing reputation. Despite his secretive behavior and constant pursuit of her, Ivy finds herself falling for him. When Jack’s secrets are revealed, Ivy discovers her life isn't her own as she's trapped within a conflict between beings of light and darkness.
After a series of dangerous encounters threaten her existence, she finds comfort from a mysterious stranger and gains the loyalty of unexpected forces. The walls Ivy has secured around her crumble in the wake of tragedy, and the devotion of her friends provide her with the family she's longed for. With their safety and her survival contingent on her actions, Ivy has no choice but to become the force of nature she's destined to be.
Valerie Roeseler is a devoted mother, author, and workaholic with a degree in Advertising, Graphic Design, and Print Production. She lives in Texas with her compassionate husband, chatty toddler, and water-loving English Pointer. She devours coffee and protein shakes, as they are her life’s essence, and is an enthusiast of art, music, literature, adrenaline, and hair dye. When she is left to her own devices, she tends to forget that sleep is a necessity.
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Trey catches up with me and pushes me against the wall with his body. “What the fuck, Trey! Get off me!” I struggle against his grip and the weight of his body.
“Come on, Ivy. I know you want me. I got your message loud and clear when you kissed me at the race yesterday.” His lips kiss me from my jaw down my neck as he uses his knee to spread my legs, leaning in closer. I smell the alcohol rolling off him, and it has a mixture of burned charcoal that reminds me of Beleth’s goons who tried to rape me. An urgency pours over me to get out of the situation by any means necessary.
Shit. This is gonna hurt.
“Trey,” I leer with seduction, demanding his attention. He leans back to look me in the eyes, and I give him a coy smile. He loosens his grip on me, and I run my hands through his hair above his ears. He motions to kiss me again and hesitates as I speak, “I’m really sorry, Trey.” He raises an eyebrow in question. He has no idea what I'm apologizing for. I rear my head back and bring my forehead to his nose as hard as I can, using it as a battering ram. He stumbles back, and I take my chance to leave.
Jack marches toward me with a pissed off expression and stops at the front of the hallway. His fists are clenched at his sides, and his eyes glare with a faint white illumination while the lighting from the room behind him give him a glowing aura. “Ivy? Are you ok?” his voice grates through his clenched teeth.
“Yeah. Just take me home,” I brood with my head down, avoiding his gaze as I storm toward him.
"You bitch!" Trey curses with hostility, and I look over my shoulder as he charges towards me. Jack stomps down the hall a few steps and freezes as I bring up my elbow, swing back, and bust Trey in the face. I twist and push his head down to knee him in the stomach, and he falls to the ground coughing.
“Stay down,” Jack warns from beside me and grabs my hand to lead me out of the house. His body's radiating heat so hot I start sweating again.
We jump in the car and peal out. Jack glances over to me with concern, his anger boiling under the surface. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” My head throbs, and I reach up to touch my right eye. There's blood on my fingers when I pull them away.
Jack reaches over and pulls my chin to face him. “You’re bleeding again.”
“Yeah,” I wince.
Jack shifts into fifth gear as we pull onto the highway, then maneuvers his shirt off as he steers. He hands it to me, “Here. Put this on your eye. It’ll help stop the bleeding.”
I take the shirt from him and hold it to my eyebrow while I try to avoid gawking at his body. “Sorry. I’m not trying to bleed all over your car.”
“I’m not worried about the fucking car, Ivy! What the hell happened?” he raises his voice in anger.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself,” I repeat in monotone.
His face falls, then he grins at me. “I can see that, but I should have been there. Yet again! I told you I would look out for you. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
Quickly sobering up, I question, “Where the hell were you all night anyways? I went to go do some shots, and turned around to give you one, and you were gone!”
“I got caught up talking to some guys from out of town,” he admits. I'm silent against his excuses. “Where did you learn to fight like that? That’s the second time I’ve seen you kick someone’s ass.” Jack smiles with pride.
I smirk at him and quip, “Wouldn’t you like to know?"


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Annabelle Montclare, a spritely singer/actress, is navigating the Hollywood scene with aplomb, never taking herself too seriously, when she collapses on stage. Warren Fitzgerald, a world-renowned gynecological surgeon, saves her life, and in return Annabelle goads him with her good-natured impertinence, flirting shamelessly while recovering.
Dr. Fitzgerald isn't interested in a meaningless fling with a pop star--not to mention it's unethical to date a patient. But when the two cross paths ten months later at a Beverly Hills charity gala, they're unable to take their eyes off each other as they exchange verbal jabs about his bigheadedness and her provocativeness.
Warren, who's cheated on girlfriends in the past, is ready to hit the brakes and fulfill his lifelong desire to become a dad. Annabelle, who's ten years his junior, is focused on carving out a creative path all her own. What happens when a sparkling presence, a girl born to entertain, becomes entangled with a grounded, strong-willed man who might rein in her exuberance or drive her head over heels?
On her way out, Annabelle stopped in the front lobby to sign the program for a young lesbian couple in matching blazers and spotted Dr. Fitzgerald heading to the door. She called to him, “Good night.” When she stepped outside, he was looking her way as he waited in line by the valet stand. He buttoned his earth-brown coat with his left hand and waved her over with his right. She meandered toward him, in no rush. “Hey, listen,” he said, “there’s a diner by the old port that opens early. At sunrise, the whole area including the boardwalk is preternaturally calm.” It was only half past one. Pitch-black outside. “You want to go to breakfast?” she blurted out with a twang. “I’m off today. Are you busy…later this morning?” “Well, well, well, how about this for an about-face.” He stood tall, waiting for an answer, both hands dug deep into his pants pockets. Spreading her arms, she ascended into a slow pirouette to prolong his wait, drawing attention from the crowd shuffling down the carpeted steps of the main entrance to the hotel. Landing her turn like a professional, she asked, “What time?” “Seven?” “Seven a.m.!” “Why not?” he asked. Did it occur to him that he’d seen her naked from the waist down…and been flashed by her bare breasts when he checked her breathing after surgery? Before exiting the hotel, she had stopped at the woman’s lounge and checked herself out in the mirrors. Sans tight dress or push-up bra, she looked pretty with a soft touch of makeup and a slight sheen from her excitement about running into him. He reached for her parking ticket, his fingertips brushing against her palm, then pivoted toward the valet dressed in tails and requested that her car be brought first. His decisiveness was potent in a way that was such a turn-on. The luxurious cashmere-like fabric of his suit jacket was inches from her touch, tempting her. Nobody who dressed as he did was alone on Saturday nights. His self-possession, his lack of hesitation, was similar yet different from his authority back at the hospital—and similar yet different from his hauteur when he dismissed her from his office. “Uh, I’m going to have to ask you for a third time about your girlfriend,” she said when he finished conversing with the valet. “I heard you were living with someone?” “Right. I don’t believe you know Lorraine, do you?” “That’s why I keep asking.” Neither her courage nor her smile failed her. She would say what she wanted to say. Rocking from one foot to the other, she was nothing if not light on her feet. “Perhaps it’s time you called Rochelle at the hospital…to catch up on things.” It was true she hadn’t texted Rochelle in a while. It was over ten months since she had been rushed to the hospital in pain and almost as long since Rochelle first filled her in on his relationship with the professor of women’s studies. “Anyway, I’m off on a serious errand,” he said. “I need to visit a former colleague who’s struggling with some personal issues.” “At one a.m.?” she exclaimed. “There’s a halfway house near the diner I mentioned. The middle of the night is when there are no AA meetings, and he’s having a bit of a crisis at the moment.” His voice was steady, no hitches. “So what do you say? Will you meet me afterward for breakfast?” Few guys could pull off looking confident without overdoing the I’m-cool-and-unconcerned act, but she could tell it wouldn’t be awkward if she said, “No, I’m too tired.” “I guess I can make it…on only five hours sleep,” she said. “I don’t have much planned for today, except the most boring meeting at noon to go over hair and makeup, so you better be entertaining.”
Elizabeth Famous grew up on a family farm in rural USA before dashing off to the big city and going Ivy League. Never satisfied with doing things the usual way, she married a man from the other side of the globe and won a doctoral fellowship in humanities. Raising her lively and opinionated children is the greatest challenge of her life.
Ms. Famous likes to write about flawed characters dealing with challenging situations not touched upon in traditional romance novels.

BLOG TOUR : MAN CANDY by Melanie Harlow


Man Candy by Melanie Harlow Release Date: June 20, 2016 Genre: Contemporary Romance



He’s back.
Not just back in town, but living in the flat right beneath mine. And he looks good enough to eat, which is just one more reason to stay away from him.
But I can’t resist.
The sex is incredible (pretty sure we’ve shaken the house right off its foundation), but he can’t fool me—not this time. A degree in marketing and five years in advertising have taught me that “true love” is a fairy tale used to sell lipstick, diamonds, and perfume. It doesn’t exist.
He thinks I’m wrong, and he wants to prove it.
I think he’s crazy, so I dare him to try.
It might be the biggest mistake of my life.


“It’s so good to see you, Jaime,” he said. “You look great.” “You too,” I said before I could stop myself. I didn’t want him to think I still cared—in fact, I wanted him to know I wasn’t fooled by his charm. I wasn’t that silly little girl anymore, the one who’d doodled his name in her notebooks and blushed when he said hi at school and cried herself to sleep when he asked another girl to his prom. That silly little girl was gone, and in her place was a confident, smart, professional woman who knew her worth and, even better, the truth about love. No more stars in her eyes. But why did he have to be so hot? OK, pull yourself together. No drooling. “I’m so glad this worked out.” Quinn let me go but stood too close, his feet planted wide and his arms crossed over his chest. He wore jeans, a gray knit pullover that hugged his muscular chest and arms, and his feet were bare. His hair was damp and messy on top, just like it had been the last time I’d seen him in person. His full lower lip made me want to bite it. Maybe even draw blood. “Sorry, I just got out of the shower,” he said sheepishly, ruffling his hair. “Want to come in and catch up? Or maybe go out for a drink? I just need to throw some shoes on.” “No.” Trying desperately to shove the image of him in the shower from my mind, I elbowed past him and trudged up the stairs. My cheeks were hot, which meant they were probably turning scarlet. They ruined my poker face every time. “Come on, it’s Friday!” “I have work to do.” He was naked a few minutes ago. And wet. “Did you have a bad day?” “No.” Rivulets of water streaming over those muscles. “You already have plans tonight?” “No.” Steam rising as he stroked himself beneath the spray. “You don’t love me anymore?” I froze as the shower fantasy exploded into bits, replaced by a humiliation that paralyzed me, one foot on the top step, one hand on the banister. Slowly, I turned my head and glared at him over one shoulder. Now the grin cocked up on one side. “Because you used to, you know. You told me.” “You need to forget about that.” “Have you?” “Yes,” I snapped. “That was a long time ago. Back when I was young and impressionable and believed in love.” His brows went up. “You don’t believe in love anymore?” “Not the romantic kind. That’s a fantasy used to sell things like lipstick and roses and diamonds.” “Pretty jaded for twenty-seven, aren’t you?” I resumed heading up the stairs. “I’m not jaded, Quinn. I’m just a realist.” And I’ve been burned before, trusting guys way less attractive than you. He said nothing more, and I let myself into my flat. As soon as the door was shut behind me, I leaned back against it, exhaling and fanning my face. He still got to me. That was so aggravating. I mean, how was I supposed to sleep at night? Quinn Rusek was one fine piece of man candy, and I had a sweet tooth for him that wouldn’t quit. But he’d made fun of me! Again! A nice guy would have at least pretended not to remember what I’d said. Or maybe apologized for humiliating me. Or not have brought it up at all! What an asshole. A hot asshole—the worst kind. Curse you, Alex, and your generous heart. And curse you, Quinn, for getting under my skin again. You stay away from me. But a traitorous little part of me hoped he wouldn’t. (Bet you can guess which part.)  

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Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

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DIRTY STOLEN FOUR by Nazarea Andrews


Today we are releasing some sexy teasers from DIRTY STOLEN FOREVER by Nazarea Andrews. Dirty Stolen Forever is an adult contemporary romance, standalone novel, that is the second book in the Green County series. The book is up for pre-order right now for just $2.99.


Click here to add DIRTY STOLEN FOREVER to Goodreads

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Colt Rayburn loved Aiden Delvin, once. A lifetime ago. Before duty and the Marines took him a world away, chewed him up and spit him out.

Aiden would have waited forever for Colt to come back. But Colt didn’t want that, and he’s rebuilt his life. Without the man he loves.

When Colt comes home from a deployment that went wrong, Aiden is there. Inexplicably back in Green County and impossible to resist. He swore he’d never go back to that place, never destroy Aiden the way he had when he walked away the first time.

But Aiden grew up and changed too, while Colt played war hero.

Both of them know what they want. After all this time. But can a love story that destroyed them once be rebuilt, when life and duty still hangs over them both… The second in a sexy new series about Green County, and the people who serve there.



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Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

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DISCLAIM by Pam Godwin
Camila was seventeen when Van Quiso kidnapped her. Ten years after her escape, the shackles refuse to release her. Not while there are still slave traders preying on her city. She will stop at nothing to end them. Even if that means becoming a slave again.
Returning to chains is her worst fear—and only option. They won’t know who she is or what she intends to do. She’s prepared for every complication. Except him. The one who decimated her sixteen-year-old heart.
Matias is charming, gorgeous, and dangerously seductive. He’s also untrustworthy and enshrouded in secrets. After years of no contact, he finds her—on her knees, wrists bound, in the clutches of her enemy. Will he sabotage her mission by needlessly saving her? Or will he keep her in chains and never let her go?
Adult 18+ only
Genre: Dark Romance
Expected release→ Aug 2016
DISCLAIM is book #3 in the DELIVER series. It can be read as a stand-alone, but if you intend to read the preceding books, do not read DISCLAIM first.
Deliver2500x1563 DELIVER (Book 1) Add to Goodreads Amazon Vanquish 1563x2500 VANQUISH (Book 2) Add to Goodreads Amazon
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New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.
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I Saw You Banner isawyouebook
Title: I Saw You
Author: Elena M. Reyes
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: June 27
Success brought fame.

With fame came money.

And money brought every single whore to worship at his feet.

Chester Green has it all living the coveted life as rock’s hottest front man—traveling, partying, and in every city, burying himself between the thighs of a groupie or two. He gorged on the perks for more than a decade until life became dull, and the taste of a woman became bland on his tongue. Nothing excited him. Nothing, until the day life literally crashed into him.

Arianna Garcia is tough, fiery, and doesn’t back down or fall sway to his charms. She isn’t a groupie, making the hunt so much harder and the rewards so much sweeter. His money and fame mean nothing to her.

All he wanted was to relax and release some pent up tension.

Now all he wants is her.

The chase is on.

I Saw You Teaser 2

Bodies grind—pulsed around me while I walked through the dance floor. Sexual tension dominated, fucking controlled the inebriated patrons while they danced to the latest club anthem pumping through its speakers. An erotic tango used to entice their partners. To forget responsibility and follow the member of the opposite sex home.
My heart raced the farther we walked in.
She was here.
I felt it with every fiber of my fucked-up being that inside these walls, a room bursting with people living and laughing, she was here without me.
Without me. Those words burned as I swallowed back my ire and pain.
We had it all at one point. The way our lives meshed seamlessly; the way our hearts recognized in the other that one missing piece. We were happy and in love, until I lost sight of what was important. Until it was too late to right the wrong she’d suffered at the hands of someone I trusted.
Fooled me.
Because of my blindness she walked away from me—from us.
Making my way through the club, I tried to avoid the flirtatious hands that recognized me. Heard the shit they whispered:
“Holy fuck is that…”
“That’s one man I love to bend over for.”
“Heard his cock was huge…I’d let him break me for just a taste.”
Vapid women that saw me as nothing more than a fun night: the rock legend that screwed anything with a pair of tits. The same asshole that, come morning, would disappear.
A fantasy.
Whispers surrounded me, made me uncomfortable. Last thing I wanted to do at the moment was play the persona I was on stage. Fuck them. Let me fucking breathe.
“Hey, handsome.” An overdone redhead blocked my path, her hand splayed over my pecs to stop me from moving forward. “Can I have your autograph?” she purred, the sound anything but sexy. Forced. A practiced maneuver she’d more than likely used to land herself a dick for the night.
“Sure,” I hissed out through a fake smile. “Do you have something for me to sign?”
“Here.” She giggled while handing me a small Bic pen, and I cringed. That sound was nothing like my girl’s soft laugh. Without an ounce of shame, she lowered her top to reveal her bare right breast. Right there, in the middle of that club for everyone to see.
“No.” Didn’t even try to hide the disgust in my tone.
“Please…” she batted her lashes “…I’ll even let you feel me up.”
At this, a genuine smirk bloomed. “Well…”
“What the fuck, Chester!” Ashley, cock-blocker extraordinaire, snapped. My would-be best friend was useful at times, I’d give her that.
“Sorry.” I grimaced, trying like hell to look genuine in my apology. “But you heard the lady. No can do.”
Before the redhead could respond or give Ashley shit, I walked off and toward the upstairs roped-off section. The VIP section of the Garcia’s club, Deseo, had been cleared and secured for the famous band wanting to let loose at their fine establishment. Would she still be as generous and accommodating if she’d known that the celebrity sitting on her plush leather seats was to be me? The same asshole who’d broken her heart, but after begging her parents, convinced them to help him one final time.
Provided them the proof needed; the lengths I’d gone to get my woman back. As of yesterday at nine a.m. the media knew everything.
A man who loved his female blindly, but let himself become manipulated by the industry. On the bullshit demands to always be someone I wasn’t. All I wanted was to enjoy her. Savor the newness of our relationship without the weight of the world—of my fame—pressing us down.
I’m sorry. Sorrier than she would ever know.
There, at the top, I stood and surveyed the room below while the boys ordered drinks.
The harsh bass and provocative rhythms encased the room, lulled everyone within these walls into a hyperactive sense of want. Lust. Sex.
My eyes scanned the room, desperate to see her. So fucking desperate, in fact, that I’d lowered myself—my pride—and stalked her best friend without relenting. Drove her up a wall until she told me where I could find my girl.
I only had tonight. Leaving, she was taking a small vacation to regroup. Escape from the memories that haunted her as much as they did me.
Did she know that I relived our memories? How I meant every single fucking word I’d said.
“This place is sick,” Ashley complimented the new hot spot I’d reserved for the tonight as she sidled up next to me. “Have you come here before?” Her tone held amusement, something that boiled my blood.
Flexing my hands, I breathed in deep through my nose before answering her. “The owner is a close friend. Amazing person.” She’d done enough to put me in this situation. I wasn’t about to let her off easily. Funny, Ashley sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here looking so smug if she knew the real reason I’d brought her here.
With furrowed brows, she eyed me shrewdly. “He or she?”
My answer? I raised a brow and turned my attention back toward the dance floor, trying like hell to find her. Those curves I’d memorized while I enjoyed her body. To catch a flash of the soft, light brown hair I loved to wrap around my fist while I dominated her much smaller form.
My girl wouldn’t be made to feel second to no one. Fuck and no.
A song she loved came on, and I chuckled low. “Of course.” How many times had I complained about her love of pop music? Now, I’d give my fucking soul just to hear her sing once more, off key and all.
“Did you say something?” Ashley asked between sips of her drink. I ignored her and continued my search.
“Hey, C., isn’t that Ari down there?” Rick yelled over the music, and every head in our group turned. My eyes zeroed in on her, and my chest constricted. From head to toe, I categorized every fucking inch of her body. Admired the way the low-cut, black-halter dress she wore accentuated her every curve.
“Fuck,” Cris hissed out, and for a fraction of a second, I turned his way. Was enough for me to see the way his vision hardened. How he followed with great interest the direction my girl was in. “I think we should leave.”
His words were harsh, but just below the surface there was also a small tinge of worry.
And so I turned. Like a perverse masochist, I watched as Arianna was led onto the dance floor by some unworthy asshole. How he spoke into her ear. How she threw her head back, laughing at something he’d said.
There was no other way to describe the sounds that emitted from the back of my throat. Loud. Angry. Hurt. An agonized growl that caused the two strangers a few steps away from me to move back a bit.
“Motherfucker’s dead.” Muscles coiled tight, I took in a few deep breaths while a red haze overflowed my vision. Nothing good would come out of me flying over to them in a bout of rage. She’d never forgive me.
“Chester,” Ashley cooed while placing her hand on my chest—a touch meant to calm and sooth the angry beast within me. It had the opposite effect.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snapped, the storm of emotions brewing within causing me to lash out. Anger spiking, I threw her hand roughly off my chest. It’s because of her bullshit that I was in this mess.
She moved back a bit, a look of fear in her eyes. Not that it lasted long; bitch was persistent and leaned in again. “Cheetos,” she hummed, and I bristled at the childhood name. “Don’t be mad, baby. She’s moved on…look.” Her hand pulled my face to look toward them. “Ari—” Ashley trailed off when I turned my glare on her for a brief moment.
Enough to shut her the fuck up, and then I turned to watch the woman I had lost in the arms of another.
The jackass dancing with my girl pulled her in close as a slow song began. Her smile, sweet and innocent, was blinding. A woman who seemed to be enjoying herself, but they didn’t know her as I did.
Those emerald green eyes gave her away.
I rushed toward her before my boys could stop me.
Heard the yells of my name.
Ashley screamed for me not to do this.
It was too late.
Enough of this shit.
No more waiting.
Arianna Garcia was fucked.

I Saw You Teaser 3

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I Saw You Teaser

About the Author
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.
As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.

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